


voces a domo

by weightedlive



Series: d20 alphabet 2021 [2]
Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Discussion of addiction, Family Bonding, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, kingston pete found family make brain go brrr, mentioned pete/rowan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29741487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weightedlive/pseuds/weightedlive
Summary: voices of familypete and kingston for d20 alphabet day 6 prompt: family
Relationships: Kingston Brown & Pete Conlan | Pete the Plug
Series: d20 alphabet 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187876
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43
Collections: Dimension 20 Alphabet 2021





	voces a domo

There’s a slight ache in Kingston’s bones as he walks up the sidewalk on a Saturday morning. He had just finished a night shift at St. Owen’s, early enough in the day that the streets usually bustling with life and noise are almost entirely silent. Sunlight peeks through the buildings and casts a golden glow over the city.

Kingston tries to stay silent as he unlocks the door to his apartment. Pete had been out when he left the previous night, so hopefully, Kingston thinks to himself, he’s actually getting some sleep.

As he pushes open the door, he’s met with the smell of sizzling bacon and fried eggs. Kingston turns the corner to see Pete standing in the kitchen, fully dressed and doting over a collection of pots and pans on the stove. He turns to smile at Kingston as he sets down his bag on the table.

“G’morning Kingston. How was your shift?” Pete asks. Kingston can see the red and white stripes from his peppermint tooth in his crooked smile and his blown-out pupils. He sighs and shakes his head.

“Pete, y’know I am not one to tell you how to live your life,” Pete’s expression falls and takes on that of a scolded puppy. Kingston is struck with a moment of guilt as he continues. “And I appreciate you making breakfast for me, you don’t have to do that. You are a guest in my house and I’m a grown-ass man, I don’t need you to make breakfast for me.”

“You worked the night shift, so I thoughtー”

“It’s very kind, Pete, I appreciate it. But you don’t look like you’ve slept a wink. I don’t want you doing things for me before you take care of yourself.”

“I’m fine, I feel great. So just eat your breakfast.” Pete starts to prepare a plate, but Kingston steps into the kitchen and puts a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Pete. You’re high, or at least coming down from it. I’m worried about you.”

Pete scowls and yanks his arm away from Kingston. “I’ve got it under control. I just wanted to do something nice for you, is that a fucking problem?”

“I’m a nurse, I know what addiction looks like. I don’t want you to depend on drugs to get you through the day.”

“I just said I’m fine, can you give it a rest?” Pete raises his voice and for a moment Kingston sees a flash of purple light in his eyes. He takes a step back. 

“Thank you for breakfast. You should get some sleep.”

The light in Pete’s eyes fades, but his anger is still tangible in the air. He stalks away to his room, muttering to himself. Kingston sighs and makes himself a plate. The bacon is slightly burned and the eggs are runny, but he can’t help but smile at the gesture.

If only he could get Pete to listen to him, at least let him try to help.

* * *

Pete wakes up tangled in his sheets and covered in a cold sweat. His eyes feel like they’ve been stitched together and his whole body aches in a way he’s all too familiar with. He checks his phoneー3:48 P.M. He sighs to himself as he sits up and stretches, pain rocketing through his bones like lightning as he stifles a cry.

“Fuck.” He mutters to himself. He’s still in his clothes from yesterday, and memories of his night come back to him in flashes.

He’s dancing with Rowan at some club in Manhattan, surrounded by college students grinding on each other and making out in corners. He’s in the hallway outside the bathroom, pinning Rowan up against the wall as they make out. She’s running her hands up his sides under his shirt and his head feels like a helium balloon close to floating away. He’s watching as Rowan goes to the bar and disappears for the night, leaving Pete to angrily down his drink and join the table of kids in the corner doing lines. He’s stumbling back to Kingston’s apartment sometime past midnight, fumbling with the key and cursing it out. He’s making breakfast when Kingston comes in and starts yelling at him, disappointed. 

He shakes his head in an attempt to rid his mind of the images, but he keeps hearing Kingston’s voice in his head, repeating over and over again. _I’m worried about you_.

He can hear Kingston’s voice now, singing along to a jazz album he’s playing in the living room. He’s not the best singer, but he can carry a tune well enough. Pete smiles to himself through the pain, his headache worsening by the second. God, it’s convenient that he lives with a nurse now.

When he steps out into the living room, Kingston is folding laundry, facing away from Pete. He’s dancing along to the music in a kind of robotic way, but he’s on beat. Pete watches him for a few moments as he tries to bring himself to speak. Guilt is settling into his heart now, almost as prominent as his migraine.

“Hey,” He finally manages. Kingston stops mid-step and turns to him, king eyes full of concern. _Goddamnit._

“Well, good afternoon Vox Phantasma,” He says as he places down the hoodie he’s carryingー one of Pete’s. “You look like shit, can’t imagine you feel any better.”

Pete shakes his head. “Do you have some Advil?”

Kingston laughs at that incredulously. “Do I have some Advil? I’m a goddamn nurse, Pete. Of course I have Advil.”

“Well I don’t know, magic is a thing!”

Kingston chuckles as he walks to the cabinet and pulls out a bottle. “Magic doesn’t solve everything, y’know. Probably gives us more problems than it solves.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Pete extends his hand for Kingston to shake three capsules into. He swallows them dry, then grimaces as Kingston looks at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry. Force of habit.”

Kingston shrugs. “I’m not one to judge. It should kick in soon, lie down on the couch. I’ll make you some tea.”

Pete bites back his protest, thinking better. He settles onto the couch into the soft pillows and shuts his eyes. He hears Kingston place the kettle on the stove, the clicking of the gas, and Kingston humming to himself. It makes Pete feel ridiculously tender and warm in his chest, although that could very well be a side effect of the drug cocktail he had consumed last night.

He thinks about what Kingston said to him earlier. _I don’t want you to depend on drugs to get you through the day._ He feels that same guilt filling up the hollow part of his chest, right between his matching scars. He remembers the way Kingston looks at him when he’s coming down from a high and when he comes home late stumbling over himself. He can sense the pain in Kingston’s eyes when he can’t form proper sentences or stand up straight. The way Kingston looked happy this morning until he saw Pete.

“Hey, Kingston?” Pete peels open his eyes to stare up at the ceiling, silently counting the streaks left behind when it had been painted last.

“Yeah?” Kingston calls back from the kitchen. The water is starting to boil, and he hears Kingston grabbing a mug from the cabinet.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Pete says, chewing his bottom lip. “I was being a dick.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kingston says over the whistling of the kettle. “I understand.”

“No,” Pete sits up and turns towards the kitchen. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I wasn’t thinking right. You were right, I’m… dependent.”

Kingston walks back into the living room with a steaming cup of tea and places it on the coffee table. “I know, Pete. But you’re grown, you don’t need me telling you how to live your life.”

“You’re right though,” Pete says. “It’s a shitty coping skill, it hurts more people than just me, I know. I know it sucks to see someone you care about hurting themselves.”

Kingston his quiet, his lips pursed. He looks at Pete for a moment, thinking. Then he sighs and sits down beside Pete, hands clasped.

“It does suck.,” Kingston says. “You’re a great kid, Pete. You’re smart and incredibly capable. But you haven’t known anything different for so long. It’s not easy, and I can’t pretend to know exactly how hard it is. But it’s your life, you do what you want to do. I just don’t want…” He stops like he’s holding his breath. 

“I want you to stay alive, alright kid?” Pete feels like he’s been shot in the chest. Kingston goes on. “This city needs you, we need you.”

Although he doesn’t say it, Pete can hear in the tone of Kingston’s voice the final part of that statement. _I need you._

Pete looks down at his feet, at the mug of tea in his hands. There are pinpricks of tears threatening to form in his eyes, and he swallows, pushing them back. 

“I need you too.”

He leans into Kingston, resting his head on his shoulder. He can feel Kingston go stiff for a minute and slowly relax, wrapping an arm around Pete’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug. They stay like that for a while, hugging on the couch silently. Pete allows a few tears to fall onto Kingston’s shirt and can feel Kingston’s shuddering breath against his chest.

Kingston lets go first, pulling back with a stoic expression save for his eyes, shining with tears. Pete looks down at his mug and takes a sip, sweet lavender and chamomile warming his body.

“Well, uh…” Kingston says, wringing his hands. There’s an awkwardness between them now, thick enough to cut through with a knife.

“Yeah.” Pete says. They sit in silence for a moment, until Pete breaks it. “Um… thanks, dad.”

The realization of what he said hits him as soon as the words leave his mouth. He meets Kingston’s eyes, wide and glazed over, almost like he had gone into shock.

“Fuck, sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry, Iー” Pete stutters, his face growing hot. _Jesus Christ, what is wrong with him?_

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Kingston whispers, still unblinking. He sits up and smiles at Pete as though nothing has happened. “Do you want something to eat? I can whip up something real fast.”

Pete is struck with a sense of deja-vu, back to the fight at the stock exchange when Robert Moses killed him and he went to Nod. He had woken up after seeing his dad and cried out, Kingston above him with his hands on his chest after having just revived him. He looked almost exactly as he did when Pete had said ‘dad’ then, eyes wide and completely shell-shocked. 

“Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.” Pete can’t bring himself to look at Kingston, too embarrassed. Well, he’s never going to live that down.

* * *

Kingston walks into St. Owen’s fifteen minutes before his shift, greeting his coworkers and patients he passes in the hall. He gets to the emergency wing and finds Emiko pouring over a clipboard, scribbling notes on a patient’s sheet.

“Good evening, Ms. Matsui.” Emiko looks up at him with a frantic expression, but it melts away under his gaze.

“Hi, Kingston.” She knits her eyebrows together and looks him up and down. “Didn’t you work graveyard last night?”

“Of course.” He smiles. Emiko shakes her head. 

“You do too much. You’re a saint, Kingston.”

“It’s part of the job, I’m just doing my duty.”

Emiko shrugs. “How are you? You look a little tired.”

“I always look tired, it comes with being old.” Kingston laughs. “I’m fine, my son was just having a rough day.”

Time freezes for a moment when Kingston says that, he’s not entirely sure if it’s just in his head or if it’s actually happening. He’s hit with the memory of Pete calling him ‘dad’ earlier that day, that same sentiment echoed in his own words.

“Oh,” Emiko says. “I didn’t know you had kids.”

Too late to take it back, Kingston shrugs. “Yeah, he’s grown. I’m just helping him get back on his feet for the time being.”

Emiko smiles at him. “Well, there’s no doubt in my mind you’re doing a great job. He’s very lucky to have you as a dad.”

Kingston smiles and nods, a warm mote of light forming in his chest as he heads off to clock in for his shift.


End file.
